Field of Flowers
by meonlyred
Summary: Years before the Blight, young Katherine Hawke finds out the hard way the price that needs to be paid to keep her family safe. POV of Hawke and Malcolm Hawke. Mature for violence.


**10 Years before the Blight: Prologue**

**Katherine**

The field of flowers stretched out on the edge of the Brecilian forest. The grassy land was littered with spots of blue, pink, and purple. A light breeze kicked up stirring up the flowers and sending petals mixed with their sweet aroma in to the air. The bright warm sun was a welcome contrast to Ferelden's usually stormy grey skies.

A pair of dark hair sisters sat amongst the wildflowers plaiting each other's hair with blue forget-me-nots, white daisies, and pink centauries. The eldest was around fifteen, almost too old to be playing with flowers. Yet, it was because of her sister she was playing like a child and not with her mother tending to the kitchen. The youngest was eight, a rag doll sat beside her as she giggled and laughed with her older sister.

"Hold still Bethany," Katherine instructed her sister as she placed a crown of buttercups on the wiggling girl's head.

Katherine barely had placed the flowers on Bethany's head when the younger sister held up what she had created; a string of dark red snapdragons.

"Red is your color, Katie," Bethany beamed with admiration for her sister.

Katherine grinned at the talents of her sister and bowed her head so she could place the crown upon her. When she raised her head she saw that Bethany's smile had shattered and the color drained from her cheeks. The child was staring over her shoulder at something behind them.

Whipping her head around Katherine immediately saw what had stolen Bethany's laughter. Her heart sank as she saw five armored men marching toward them. Heedless of the fragile flowers, they stomped through the field bending and breaking their delicate stems. Their shining pale armor bore a symbol of the holy sword and flames, it was the mark their father had taught them to fear since as far back as they could remember. Templars, holy knights of the Chantry. Their mission was to hunt, capture, or kill apostate mages, mages like Bethany and their father. Their hard glaze was set upon the young Hawke sisters.

An icy chill ran through Katherine's heart, they would take Father and Bethany away, leaving only Mother to care for her and her brother Carver. The templars would not care that they were a loving happy family. The Chantry demanded them to be torn apart.

Jerking Bethany up by the arm, the sisters took flight into the woods. Daring a glance over Katherine shoulders she saw the templars had given chase tramping over Bethany forgotten doll.

"Run and find Father," Katherine said desperately as she shoved her sister in the direction of the homestead. Turning she ran in the other direction hoping to divide their hunters.

Katherine raced until her lung ached and her legs burned, she might have been faster, with the heavy plate armor that the templars wore, but she under estimated their ability to track. Leaping over a fallen tree, she practically ran head first into one of the templars. Skidding to a stop she turned to change directions but the templar grabbed a handful of dark hair and pulled her roughly back to him, pinning her arms to her sides.

"Now little lady, we are going to talk about your father and sister," he whispered darkly as Katherine screamed.

**Malcolm**

Bethany busted into the clearing of her family's homestead crying for her father, tears streaming unrestrained down her face. Her twin, Carver was in the yard holding a stick like a sword staring at her bewildered. He had been in the middle of thrashing a mulberry berry demanding it give in to his superior might.

From the doorway her father Malcolm appeared looking alarmed. He was dressed as he always had, a proud mage flaunting his robes and staff. Covering his chin and cheeks was a rough beard; the black hair that crowned his head was cut shagged. He was a charming man with the wit and face that made a rich heiress abandon her life of luxury and run away with him into the night.

Bethany collapsed to her knees in the yard a few feet from where he father stood. He went to pick her up when she cried, "Templars!"

Grabbing the staff from his back he stood to face the two templars as they burst into the clearing. Fire surged from his fingertips incasing the templars. Their armor began to glow from the heat and melt to their skin. The farthest one threw back a lyrium potion as his cohort screamed and died. The potion gave him enough power to resist the spell and stalked toward the patriarch Hawke with his blade naked in his hand.

Leandra, Malcolm's wife appeared from behind him grabbing their children rushed them away to shield them from the clash between templar and mage. With his young twins out of harm's way, Malcolm was free to use his full might against the remaining templar. Throwing out his hands, he surrounded the templar in arcane light freezing him in place. Clenching his hands into fists he crushed the templar; armor and bones. He could not even cry out in pain before he died.

Turning Malcolm rushed back into the house to find his wife and two of his three children huddling together. Leandra had a kitchen knife in her hands and was shaking violently. They children clung to her skirts wide eyed and terrified.

Kneeling next to his family he gently touched Bethany's flower crowned head, "Where is Kate?"

Tears had stained the child's face, her eyes were puffy and her nose red. Throwing up her hand, she pointed in the direction she had last seen her sister.

Turning his attention to his wife he cupped her face to gain her attention. His beloved, she had left behind so much to risk her life with him. She gave up silk dresses and fine jewelry to live in a small cottage in damp muddy Ferelden.

"My love, gather everything we can't bear to part with. Hitch the ox to the cart, we leave as soon as I return with Katherine."

He had almost made it to the door with Leandra called out to him, "Bring our baby home."

Looking back at the love of his life he nodded, "I will."

The words of what could be happening to their daughter needn't be said out loud.

The sharp sound of a whip echoed by a whimper confirmed Malcolm's fear. The templars had his eldest daughter. Hastily he approached where the sounds were coming from. What he saw made his heart turn black with hate and rage. His daughter's hands were tied to a tree branch, she was bounded so that she was forced to stand on her tip toes. The strain of her weight against the rope had made red angry marks around her wrists. With each twist of her arms the coarse rope cut deeper. Her shirt had been torn away leaving her upper body bare. Soft young skin exposed to cruelty.

Crack! The templar nearest to her reared his hand and whipped her. He had rendered her once smooth back to shreds.

"Now child," he cooed, "if you answer my questions, this will all go so much easier for you. We know you are a good little daughter of the Maker. He knows you love your father and sister but they have an evil thing inside them. We can help them. Tell us where they are."

"No!" Katherine screamed holding back a sob, her voice cracking with pain.

The two other templars were too focused on the torture of Katherine to notice Malcolm. Sweeping his hand out, he incased the unaware templars in ice. The templar with the whip turned in time to see Malcolm had shattered his cohorts.

"You will pay for that maleficar!" The templar roared dropping his whip and brandishing his blade.

"Not a maleficar, I am nothing but a free man," Malcolm said holding forth his staff.

"A dead man," yelled the templar as he charged.

The templar did not see the glyph Malcolm had placed on the ground until it was too late. The knight froze in place, his sword aimed to strike down the apostate.

Malcolm calmly stepped up beside the templar who was watching him out of the corner of his eye. The man's eyes bled hate for the mage. This was the kind of man who strained the entire order with his hate for mages. What they had done to earn such contempt, Malcolm was unsure. What he was sure of, was this man took pleasure in hurting people. His evil would end here in these woods.

"I am not like the young magelings you torment and kill. I am a seasoned enchanter; I know the arcane like I know my own soul. And you have dared to harm what is mine," Malcolm spoke in a low hiss.

Placing his hand on the templar's chest plate he ignited the man. Unable to move the man could only scream muffled through his clenched teeth.

Forgetting the templar, Malcolm rushed to his daughter's side. With a quick slice of his knife he cut Katherine down and wrapped her in his cloak.

She hiccupped a sob at the sight of her father. Clutching a fistful of his robes she cried, "I didn't tell them anything. They accused you of terrible things. They wanted to know if you cut yourself or us…"

"Hush my child," Malcolm said rocking her gently in his arms he sent wave after wave of healing magic into her. He could heal the deep gashes on her back but for all the magic he wielded he could not heal her damaged soul.

Returning to the homestead, Malcolm was glad to see Leandra has been busy with the task he had given her. The ox had been hitched; she and the twins were busy carrying their things out of the house.

When Leandra saw Malcolm carrying their eldest, she cried out and dropped the basket of clothes she had been carrying. Sprinting to them she hugged them both eliciting a whimper from Katherine. Leandra jumped back like she had been stung and examined her daughter.

"Malcolm, is she alright?" Leandra cried brushing lose strains of black hair out of Katherine's face.

"She'll be fine. She wasn't in their care long enough for them to do any lasting harm. But we need to leave now, before more arrive," he said stepping around Leandra and placing Katherine in the cart then lifted Bethany in next to her. Carver climbed in by himself.

Despite being twins Carver and Bethany were like night and day, one polite and quiet, the other furiously independent. Malcolm touched the two twins gently making sure they were alright. Their eyes were still a little too wide, but their youth would allow them to forget soon enough.

Leandra picked up the basket of clothes and placed it in the cart as well, "But there is still more things in the house."

"Unless it is something we cannot live without, we are leaving it," Malcolm said climbing the carts buggy sit and looking back at Leandra. She took one final look at the house and nodded climbing next to her husband. This is the price she was forced to pay to be with him, but their love was strong and he knew she could weather this.

"Where are we going to go?" She asked looking back to check on the children.

Bethany was sitting next to her sister holding her hand. Carver sat next to them his arms crossed as he watched them.

"West," was all the apostate said to his wife.


End file.
